A Society's downfall
by moietmoialone
Summary: When you are betrayed by the ones you trust - what will you do? He would never have thought of Soul Society turning against him, not after he willingly gave up everything to straighten out their mess. But the Society still is bound to the old ways... And sometimes when friends become enemies, once-thought enemies turn out to be better friends.
1. Chapter 1

_Hi guys!_

_This is my first attempt of a fanfiction. So please try to be gentle ^.~_

He woke up with soaring pain pulsing through his lower back. He couldn't even open his eyes first and then start to notice the pain, it was too intense.

No, he guessed, the fire throbbing in his abdomen was what woke him up, pulling him effortlessly merciless out of the unconscious state he had blissfully been in.

Trying to breath against the pain failed. Calm deep breathes, concentrating all his attention to the point in his body where it was constantly hit by a huge hammerlike motion shooting wave after wave of agonizing pain up his spine.

Against all his efforts a little whimper escaped his tightly closed lips.

Contrary to the believing of his friends he wasn't as dense as he usually acted. He knew exactly what happened right this moment. And even if he were that dense, he doubted anybody remotely intelligent would miss the fact when someone pounded his ass without his consent...

He was being raped.

Anger boiled up through the shock. Hot and destructive. He was nobody you raped and lived long enough to regret it! He reared his shoulders, fought against the weight that tried to hold him down. His hands were shackled tightly to the ground by what he recognized as seki-seki stone. He was in Soul Society? It dawned on him why he felt so worn out, so weak and empty. They had cut him off of his spiritual power and with that from Zangetsu. He was helpless...

Well they thought, he would be.

If he relied solely on his Zanpakuto he wouldn't have survived in the World of the living for long. People always underestimated him. He didn't know why. Was it his hair? Or that he was built slim like a swimmer? It certainly wasn't the fact that he was nice to each and everyone he met. His constant frown made sure no one approached him lightly. Well fuck that! Somebody had done exactly that.

Above him the person began to groan like a boar in death agony and his thrusts became even harder and more erratic. It hurt like a bitch. He always had thought himself a tough little soldier with all the pain he endured fighting. He had died a few times as well and not that "drop dead and feel nothing" kind of experience. The pain was excruciating. But now? It reached so deep inside him, tender places that were never meant to be touched... He was torn inside he knew it. He could feel it every fucking thrust that motherfucker did with his overgrown cock. Scratching the raw skin of his once-thought exit only... Not stopping once or slowing down. Constantly thrusting and hurting him more.

A little agony-caused groan that melded into a drawn out whimper fast left his tight lips. That asshole had done something so he reached even deeper, his thrusts now without any rhythm but hard fast and as deep as he could. When he felt the cock inside him stiffen and spurt a warm sticky fluid into his channel, tears of disgust and despair ran down his cheeks.

He realized he couldn't do anything but grit his teeth in his weakened state. Suppressing the cries of sorrow and hurt from spilling over his dry cracked lips. How long had he been unconscious? All of his body felt like it had been tied down and groped for quite a while without a pause or washing. There was a gooey dry substance on his inner thighs and that feeling went even deeper into his channel. Tears fell down his cheeks but he refrained from sobbing. Holding it back. He had to be strong. He lived. That was all that counted. He lived. He had to survive. Survival first. Then escape. Then revenge, killing the ones that hurt him. But first survive.

His mind shut down. He backed away deep inside himself where there should have been his inner world of skyscrapers and blue sky. He still could feel what was done to his body. The disgusting hands groping his dick and balls, poking his nipples, the mouth biting his neck, the cock that tore him open with every thrust. He could feel it all. But he had detached himself from the sensations in order to survive and not drown in frustration and despair. He was so weak...

Blackness invaded his sight and he once again fell unconscious

Again he was woken up by pain. He didn't know how long it already went on. Hours. Days Months... He just didn't know anymore. The only thing he knew was that he felt disgustingly weaker every time that motherfucking shinigami - yes, shinigami, he found that out one time when they brought him something to eat - fucked him. He had hoped they would untie him so he could eat by himself but no, they only changed his position to a sitting one and force-fed him. They always kept him drugged and drained. Always injected sedatives when he started to give signs of growing stronger. He didn't know the shinigami. Either he was a new one or one of these unseated officers that never had the courage to openly approach him. The thought of that lowlife having free access to his body, doing all the things he wanted to him repulsed him. He often threw up out of (self-) abhorrence.

The last time when he had started to struggle again that shinigami had laughed at him and plunged right back in his completely raw-fucked entrance and whispered

"You know, I'd never have thought I could get that lucky and get a chance at fucking you into submission. They tell me I only have to get you pregnant and you will accept me as your alpha. Damn! Do you know what that will do not only to my reputation but to my social status? Ahhh... To think I'm fucking the hero of the winter war!"

Pregnant... They wanted to get him pregnant, he had thought... He was a guy, he had inwardly scoffed, how does a guy get pregnant? He would be missing certain organs for that to ever happen. How stupid were they?

And then he really started to struggle despite his fogged mind and sluggish body. He had almost thrown of that asshole fucking him, when a familiar face stepped into the little room they held him prisoner.

"Ah ah ah, Kurosaki-kun don't hurt yourself by uselessly trying to get away from your alpha. We cannot have that, my lovely specimen of a beautiful Visored. Do you know how rare a breed you are? Shinigami, human and hollow in one body... What a wonderful specimen... I need a blood sample, step back you idiot!"

To say he was shocked would be an understatement. Why was the captain of the 12th division here? Oh yeah, to get a blood sample... What the fuck!?

"Kurotsuchi? What ..."

"Ah close your trap Kurosaki-kun. You are no longer in the position to ask questions. You only make sure to stay alive and birth your children. That is all you have to do"

The disturbing voice of the scientist got even more creepier as he chuckled.

So he knew how they got their hands on him... That mad scientist had played probably the leading role in his abduction.

The last thing he remembered was a get-together with his friends at Renjis.

_There was lots of alcohol and fun, of course he didn't drink, he was still four years away fom being legal- even if people in Soul Society seemed to think otherwise. Matsumoto and Ikkaku had like always tried to make him drink by daring him. Kenpachi had asked for a fight, going as far as bloodying him and then cackling horribly joyful as he had thrown the bigger man through the next three walls with his kick. Renji... Well the dumb redhead had drooled over Rukia as she sipped ladylike at her cup of sake talking to Yumichika and Ukitake-taicho, while Kyorako-taicho and Toushiro discussed the best ways of getting information about the World of the living without solely relying on himself. Byakuya never had shown up. No surprise there. That guy had to have a stick shoved up his royal as. It had to hurt terribly... Then Unohana-taicho and her fuku-taicho - he still couldn't remember her name - made their entrance with Hanataro trailing timidly behind them. Matsumoto had a new goal: get the shy Shinigami wasted just for fun. Hanatoro not being able to say no, was pretty fast done for the evening, making the fuku-taicho of the 10th division whine in exaggerated disappointment._

"Why?" he couldn't quite keep the pleading out of his voice. It was always obvious that the scientist was mad, but never to that extent.

"Well... Sou-taicho wants to know if there is the slightest possibility of recreating such strong fighters as you are. And since you are quite the obstacle he needs to control you anyway - what we did by giving you an alpha..."

"Sou... Sou-taicho... Old man Yamamoto knows about this?" something deep inside him broke. It felt awfully a lot like the last shard of his hope to be rescued by anybody.

"Of course he knows. He wants daily records of your progresses, you silly boy." the madman stated matter of factly while he used kido to examine his abdomen.

"Heh! He is pregnant! Sou-taicho will be pleased. According to my information he now needs daily infusions of your Reiatsu."

He blanked. Yes, he knew something strange had grown in his body, something that absorbed the little Reiatsu he had left. By instinct he even knew that something was a child growing but until now he hadn't had the courage to really believe his instinct. Shiro would call him a weak idiot... Probably amongst other things. Confusion was thick in his mind. How could he have gotten knocked up? He was a guy for fucks sake!

And Yamamoto ordered them to do that to him! What did he do to deserve that from the old man? He saved their sorry asses more than once and that was his thanks!? How many of his so called friends were involved? Was the party only a means to capture him in an incautious moment? After what he already experienced with Rukia then Toushiro and even the Visoreds he wouldn't put it past them. So they saw him as a threat. After all he did for them... He had to admit it hurt.

For a moment the thought of just giving up and die in a puddle of his own tears and probably blood - if he had judged the wet feeling of something warm run down his inner thighs right - had come to his slowly submitting mind. Only to be suppressed in a heartbeat. He would never give up. Never surrender. Never!

It wasn't just him anymore. He had to survive for his cubs. His hollow instincts kicked in bringing up his motherly, or rather beta side. They made him curl into himself. Reaching deep within himself searching for the tiny balls of Reiatsu of his little ones. Welcoming them and give assurance.

~oOo~

Since then time had flown by.

He constantly grew stronger without them knowing. Hah! What would Rukia say when she got to know that he had learned to suppress his Reiatsu at last?! And all by himself. He guessed, misery and desperation were pretty damn good teachers... And it did definitely help that his Spiritual Pressure right now was so low you couldn't begin to compare it. And of course his cubs drained the most of it. But he grew stronger. Slowly but steadily. He had decided to go along with their thoughts of him accepting the sire of his cubs as his alpha. No fights and struggles anymore. He even kept still when that lowlife made him suck his dick. He had thrown up again for ours after that. Kurotsuchi came in for his daily examination while he retched frantically in his already weakened state. After the madman had been done with his groping and prodding he had forbidden that asshole to ever do that again while his specimen was pregnant. The cubs (that idiot still called them children...) were affected by the weakening state of the body of their mother.

His calm demeanor worked. They didn't drug him anymore and they grew incautious. A few more days of that humiliating degradation and he would finally be strong enough to bust the shackles with sheer spiritual pressure. They say it isn't possible. Well, they said that about the invasion of Seiretei...

He threw himself against the chains of the manacles binding him to the hard cold floor on his stomach. Pulled at them with all he got. And they gave a few centimeters. It was enough for him to increase his efforts, to kick his shackled feet and hit his torturer against the shin. Dead on. Hard. He could feel the hands clamping around his waist in agony and his mind, now reduced to the basic instinct of fighting for survival he liked the yowl of pure hurt. When he got out of these fucking shackles there would be even more of these yowls in more variations and of more flavor.

While he enjoyed his little victory his torturer found back his composure and struck his victims head, so that it hit the ground in a severe impact. That helped him to get even more grip of his powers. It always had been strong emotional stress that made him stronger or gave him access to unused resources. When he only felt his power like behind a thick wall of massive steal he now could reach it. The fury of being helpless and raped, betrayed by the persons he trusted had forged his mind into something dangerous. Unforgiving, merciless, reduced to the basic human instincts mixed with his hollow instincts and the instincts of an expecting mother.

The shinigami didn't know what hit him. Suddenly a massive wave of overpowering and vast power enveloped the tiny room. It pressed the officer to the ground instantly crushing his bones invading his body merging with his blood - bringing it to boil. He felt all the agony and pain all the hate and fear all the disgust and sorrow his prisoner had piled up in himself for weeks at once just in a few minutes. And he wished he would die. Blood leaked out of his eyes, ears and nose. Incoherent unintelligible noise tumbled out of his mouth more syllables than words pleading for the agony to stop begging to just loose consciousness or die. And all the while the cruel Reiatsu ripped open his body bit by bit and he could feel it. He was skinned alive and still could not cut the thread to his live force. The Reiatsu would not let him. It forced his own Reiatsu to his heart, made it race with the power stored there for the moment. Then his intestines lay open for the cold air and his screams became more horrified. Someone plunged his hand in his chest and ripped out his heart. His last view of the world was the orangette he had tortured for four months consuming his heart in the flesh and power.


	2. Chapter 2

_I swear, this chapter didn't want to be written! What a bitch! Hopefully, you'll like it better than I do..._

* * *

He came back to consciousness and the first thing that made itself felt was the aching pain in his skull where his head had hit the floor from the punch that motherfucker had given him. He felt even more like shit than before.

So his little attempt of escape didn't work.

He kept his eyes tightly closed. He didn't want to know what happened around him, who was there and what they had in mind for him now. He probably had given away his one and only chance of freedom – they would never let down their guard around him anymore, probably keep him in chains and sedated.

He still lay on the floor, that he could feel through his back. The hard coldness seeped through his Gi and Hakama sending a heavy chill down his spine. He could feel something warm and wet slide down his chin and chest and he really didn't want to know what it was. As long as they didn't force him to realize his fail he would not acknowledge it by opening his eyes and show them the tears that gathered in the corners of his eyes.

They must have knocked him out with something bad. His headache got even bigger with passing time. Of course the silence in the tiny room helped to clear his foggy mind but still...

Everything hurt. So bad. Not only his head – the pain was excruciating in its own way.

He remembered his little sister telling him that sometimes the only way of getting through something awfully painful you had to endure. It made you stronger for the next time. Yuzu maybe was the youngest and softest of the three children of Kurosaki Isshin but she sure as hell was one wise girl. Where she learned all the things she told them as advice he didn't know.

He had wondered about that for a long while now. And he probably would never find out the answer to that question. But it helped to remember his sister. A feeling of warmth and love spilled into his mind, strength born of patience and deep-rooted willpower filled him. Yuzu's face – smiling, laughing, kind, nervous, displeased, somber – he could see her in all the situations when he protected her.

He now saw what he missed then when she cried for him to help her – even then there was this spark of strength in her eyes. Power so raw that most people would not recognize as it grew of silent suffering while caring for loved ones enduring their pain and helping them by lending a place of heartfelt warmth and safety.

And he understood.

There was a strength you could not achieve by fighting. A strength you got simply by acting on your feelings.

Your body you could torture and train into shape push it into submission through exercise and get stronger inch by inch just by disciplining yourself. Your mind you could do almost the same to. Train it to see through the people around you to foresee an enemy's next step. Exercise was the keyword to it.

Yuzu's strength was based on her heart. And that you could not train.

He had felt something very similar akin to that strength when he fought with Aizen. Protecting the people he cared for, knowing he would loose everything and giving it all up willingly, smiling. Surrounded by calmness he had sensed that the power he had been given by Tensa Zangetsu wasn't the only reason for his superiority but he was to far into the fight for thinking about its origin.

Now... now he knew. It was that strength that built the groundwork of his power. And the reason he could fall so deep was simple: like a tree with no roots physical strength without the heart to back it up anyone and everything could bring you to fall.

While he lay there exhausted and thinking, mourning for the would haves and could haves something occurred to him. Yes, his body hurt, but it wasn't the same hurt he had felt for the last – it felt like months. He strangely had the feeling that his injuries were healed. His wrists didn't ache were the shackles constantly scraped his already raw skin. He concentrated his attention to his ankles expecting the sting of the shaving sensation the cold stone binding him to the floor always gave him.

It wasn't there.

Against his better knowledge he opened his eyes to ensure himself that his imagination only played a trick on his tired mind. Dumbfounded his gaze fell on his free ankles that were covered by black fabric. He blinked. His whole body was covered in black fabric. And it felt familiar, it felt right. His hope-deprived mind couldn't grasp it at first but after a few seconds it dawned on him.

He was wearing his Shihakusho.

Why would the Shinigami dress him when it was clear the clothes would be ripped from his body in a second? It didn't make any sense. Unless...

He looked around. He found himself to still be in the tiny room they held him prisoner the whole time. Only there were some … rather disturbing... changes. The light gray walls were now painted in a dull red-brown color that seemed to be fresh. The air reeked of something he couldn't identify. There was the distinctive sweet-metallic smell of blood and the musky scent of spent air. It felt heavy in here. Like something bad had happened. He let loose a little noise between a lough and a grunt. Something bad had happened here... Well, something other than him being raped.

A pile of blackness caught his eyes. It didn't move in any way, still his senses told him it was important to check it out. So he stood. It was hard at first considering the last time he had stood alone was a long long time ago. His movements were slow and a little painful but thankfully his muscles didn't regress in the time he wasn't allowed to move from his knees. When he finally was in front of that pile the memories came back. Blackness tinted with light-blue and deep red. Spiritual pressure so high and oppressive that it rivaled anything he knew. His hand reached to his mouth when the last memory hit him. The warm substance running down his throat, the metallic taste, the almost caressing feeling in his stomach... it was the power he consumed – and of course the flesh and blood. He couldn't help himself but throw up.

Only it didn't help to lessen the sickening feeling.

He had killed the Shinigami that had raped him. And he had enjoyed it. Shiro cackled in his mind. He wanted to get mad at the Hollow, but he couldn't find it in him. He was too relieved.

_Welcome back..._

_*Was neva, gone, aibou. Ya onley couldn' reach me, baka. What a weak asshole king I'm stuck with... tche!*_

_Ah... I missed you too_

The pale reflection only grinned smugly.

_You know where Zangetsu is? I can't feel him._

_*Yeah... 'bout that... move ya ass and find ya sword! They tried ta seal him an' when 'e resisted... they wan'ed ta break 'im. Tha old geezer locked 'imself in a sphere... Ya tha onley one ta get 'im outa there. Is moody like fuck!*_

_They tried to break him? Assholes! For that alone, I'll teach them a lesson!_

_*Always tha li'l protector, eh? Shouldn' ya be mad as hell 'cause of wha' them fuckers did ta ya? I sure am! Gonna wipe tha lowlifes of tha face of this fucking world!*_

_Never said, I wasn't._

_*Good ta know we agree an tha', aibou. Thought they broke ya...*_

He answered that with silence. The truth was, he didn't know for sure he wasn't damaged beyond recovery. But he was willing to try. And the first step to do that was to find his sword.

So he left the tiny cell that housed him in search of the third part of his soul. They could try and keep him from Zangetsu...

''Kurosaki Ichigo, go back to your room or I have to hurt you.''

A tall brown haired guy stood in the floor that lead out of the building. On his face there was a deep frown and his lips were pressed together tightly. He knew the guy, he was sure of that.

''You really think I'd follow your order?''

''I'd prefer it if you did that, Kurosaki Ichigo.''

''Huh... So you know who I am, asshole. Get out of my way then.''

''Of course I know who you are. How could I not? But I happen to know as well how weak you are and that you stand no chance of defeating me after all that was done to you. It is a rather interesting surprise you could escape your bindings and your room.''

''Don't call it a room. We both know it to be a cell. And regarding me not being able to defeat you...''

He didn't end his sentence for actions speak louder than words. He already had killed a few of the other officers of the twelfth Squad and he didn't regret it. They wanted to stop him from getting out of his cell, out of this building, out of his personal hell. He would not allow anybody to stand between him and his freedom. He owed that to his little ones.

''Are you prepared for your dire punishment, Kurosaki Ichigo?'' the man asked touching his slightly shaking hand to his horned forehead in an almost regretting movement.

His answer was to unleash his new-found spiritual Pressure while calmly meeting the disturbed eyes.

He had tried not to kill without reason but he needed to escape. Had to get his cubs out of here. And if that meant to kill everyone and anything that came between him and his freedom... he would do it without second guessing.

''How? You should not be able... They sealed your power... impossible!''

''_Not impossible... ya jus' neva heard of it b'fore, nerdy..._''

Although he was able to crush the Shinigami by his Reiatsu alone, his instincts needed him to kill by his own hand and feel the flesh tear beneath his claws, the blood running down his arm where it would join the blood of his so called alpha. They both watched the skin of his arm turn white while it stretched to accommodate the new form of his now hollow limb. And as he himself looked at it in slight awe the other Shinigami let out a strangled noise that sounded awfully a lot like a choked scream.

_*Yare yare... they are so weak, aibou... screaming onley 'cause they see ya shift... makes me almos' a li'l embarrassed ya got caught by tha'!*_

''I was incautious 'cause I trusted them...Leave it, Shiro.''

It was only a matter of milliseconds to rip the Shinigami apart and he did it without emotion. They knew what was done to him and they didn't do anything against it. By his logic that meant they approved of it – which made them guilty as well.

As soon as the body fell to the ground in a bloody and limp heap his claws shifted back to human. Flexing them he stared at the fast dulling eyes.

''You should have gotten out of my way.''

''I could not do that, Kurosaki Ichigo... '' severe coughs shook the slim body, but he squeezed the words out between his lips ''You do not know what he will do...what he will do to me when he realizes that I let you escape... You will just kill me. He would use me for experiments. I'd rather you kill me fast. Gomen nasai...''

The light of the dawning sun blinded him for a moment. It had been a long time since he last saw natural light. They had made sure his cell didn't have a window for obvious reasons. Well it didn't help them in the end.

When he first set a foot out of that damn building he was a little surprised for he was in the midst of Seireitei. They really held him prisoner in the building of the fucking twelfth Squad. How sure of their ability of repressing him did they have to be to do that? Or rather how many people did know about their little experiment? Red hot rage shot through his body. They would pay for it. Every moment of fear, every pain every little tear they would pay for. And at the end he would let them suffer and beg for the mercy they denied him.

They feared for him to become a monster. Now they got what they wished for.

He stretched his body in the warming sun moving his neck and groaning satisfied as his spine plopped with a cracking sound back into position. He once again felt ready to take on the world.

_*Hah! Tha' prob'ly is wha' ya have ta face, aibou.*_

And Shiro was right. A mass of Shinigami gathered in front of him. He could feel their fear, could almost smell it in the air.

_*Ah! Ah! Ah! Aibou, wha' ya think – wold them idiots run away screamin' when ya shouted ''booh!''? Can I try? Can I? Can I? Let me, yeah?*_

He chuckled silently. Shiro sometimes was such a child.

The Shinigami in the front considered his chuckle as offending and attacked with much screaming and chaotic noise. To put it lightly, he was annoyed. Killing the little fish wouldn't bring him any nearer to Yamamoto. And he wanted to kill that fucker. The first idiots reached him thinking him small fry without his Zanpakuto. He huffed. You should think they knew better considering they learned kido at the same time they taught them how to use a sword. Or maybe they just thought because he couldn't use kido and didn't have Zangetsu with him he was defenseless... He didn't even remember how he knocked them out. Only the faint hurting in his ulna and knee told him he used his body.

While it apparently was no big deal for him to defend himself against a certain number of opponents with bare hands, he definitely had problems with the whole twelfth Squad coming at him at once. They slowly but efficiently wore him down and in spite of the many officers down on the ground, there still came more. He already had a nasty cut to his forehead and some more or less deep gashes were distributed over his whole body. The energy boost he got from gaining back his powers dissipated with each blow he delivered or took. It only was a question of time when he would be unable to actually lift a finger. He had to think of something – and preferable sooner than later. They probably had informed the Sou-taicho as soon as they lay eyes on him.

''Capture him at all costs. But don't hurt him too much, he is with child! Mayuri-Sama wants him alive and healthy!'' he heard the almost emotionless voice of the fuku-taicho of the twelfth Squad. So they wanted him alive. He could work with that.

Once again they came at him, but now they used kido. It was obvious they tried to bind him so he wouldn't be able to defend himself any more.

_*Cal 'im, aibou! Call tha old man! He's jus' waitin' for ya! He'll be free in no time!*_

_How? How do I call him?_

_*Jus' think of 'im, baka! Call 'is name, send out ya Reiatsu. He's not as dense as ya, he'll find us!*_

_Why didn't I do that before?_

_*Don't be an idiot, aibou! 'Cause tha building is shielded not onley with kido and seals but with some material tha' should'a keep the tie b'tween ya and old man dormant. Ya needed ta get outa there!*_

Where he once would have argued he now trusted his Inner Hollow blindly. He called for Zangetsu and sent some of his Reiatsu with it. It surprised him a little how good a control he now had on his Reiatsu.

_***Ichigo.***_

_Old man... Zangetsu! _

The sheer pressure of the union with his Zanpakuto brought the Shinigami that had circled him to the ground killing the weaker of them while injuring the others gravely. Nemu, the black haired fuku-taicho stood there unable to move. All she could do was not falling to her knees

He knew he had to escape and soon. His whole body quivered with exhaustion and blood loss. They had kept his body only as strong as he needed to be for his cubs.

In the next moment he heard the alarm go off. A female voice droned from everywhere and nowhere through the whole of Seireitei:

''An unidentified Reiatsu has been confirmed in the technological research bureau, gate 2. High spiritual pressure is suppressing the area. Confirmation of officers down. All squads in the the thirteen protection squad and kido corps are to report in, Taichos of squad two, ten and eleven are to betake themselves immediately to the scene. Kill at sight.''


End file.
